2008 Woodie Awards
Wake up; go to sleep
By: Chris Dunne
Issue date: 5/7/08 Section: Opinion
I hate it when stuff keeps me up at night.
The world; so full of its problems, ironies and hypocrisies, doesn't want to give me a chance to take a breath.
It does not allow me a moment to shut my eyes and forget everything.
It is approximately 1:55 a.m. and I have class at nine, work from 10 till 2 and my deadline for this article is at noon. Where does it all fit in?
Why can't I stop thinking of the two of them together?
The intimacy involved in the act that I can no longer partake in with her.
Like a nightmare it haunts my thoughts, every detail magnified out of proportion until the intensity of it is unbearable and the likeness of those involved is skewed horrifically.
She is more beautiful and terrible than reality could ever allow and it beats me up inside.
Now I'm just beginning to sound like a creep.
It's spring festival time in my hometown.
Due to the small population; this is cause for a lot of fanfare.
The community will gather together and celebrate the coming of May, the mayor will give a speech and of course there will be a parade.
My weekend employer has decided to join the goodwill propaganda and submit a float in celebration of the upcoming "Indiana Jones" film. Naturally he wants me to portray the Jonester himself.
It should be duly noted that I do not look a thing like Indiana Jones.
I'll chalk it up to being the only white guy that works at the movie theater.
Not that race has anything to do with it, I'm sure my lanky Asian friend could have pulled off an impressive Indy. Or perhaps my tubby Latino buddy.
Instead they got the pudgy white guy to do it, the one with thick black glasses and a gawky smile.
What will my fans think?
What will she think of the fool on the float?
The fool brandishing a nylon whip, the fool that charades around with a fake, plastic, dollar tree pistol, and shoots it into the crowd for effect.
The world; so full of its problems, ironies and hypocrisies, doesn't want to give me a chance to take a breath.
It does not allow me a moment to shut my eyes and forget everything.
It is approximately 1:55 a.m. and I have class at nine, work from 10 till 2 and my deadline for this article is at noon. Where does it all fit in?
Why can't I stop thinking of the two of them together?
The intimacy involved in the act that I can no longer partake in with her.
Like a nightmare it haunts my thoughts, every detail magnified out of proportion until the intensity of it is unbearable and the likeness of those involved is skewed horrifically.
She is more beautiful and terrible than reality could ever allow and it beats me up inside.
Now I'm just beginning to sound like a creep.
It's spring festival time in my hometown.
Due to the small population; this is cause for a lot of fanfare.
The community will gather together and celebrate the coming of May, the mayor will give a speech and of course there will be a parade.
My weekend employer has decided to join the goodwill propaganda and submit a float in celebration of the upcoming "Indiana Jones" film. Naturally he wants me to portray the Jonester himself.
It should be duly noted that I do not look a thing like Indiana Jones.
I'll chalk it up to being the only white guy that works at the movie theater.
Not that race has anything to do with it, I'm sure my lanky Asian friend could have pulled off an impressive Indy. Or perhaps my tubby Latino buddy.
Instead they got the pudgy white guy to do it, the one with thick black glasses and a gawky smile.
What will my fans think?
What will she think of the fool on the float?
The fool brandishing a nylon whip, the fool that charades around with a fake, plastic, dollar tree pistol, and shoots it into the crowd for effect.
Be the first to comment on this story